Doodling with hearts
by don'twannabetorn9
Summary: Set right before Face the Music, Star is bored in class and decides to doodle something random...only the picture turns out to be not quite as random as she thinks. one-shot


**I do not own Star vs the Forces of Evil…..Starco is life!**

I like doodling. My favorite thing to doodle is a face that's not quite round. There's hair at the top, messy dark hair. I am extra careful as I draw the eyes because the brown eyes have to capture everything the real ones do. They have to show bravery and excitement. They have to show the sweet, adorableness that exists within their dark brown pools.

I don't draw a big smile on the paper, a small smile. Small smiles are the best. They are given after you punch a large centi-spider in the face and I just wipe the poison off your arm. Or when I'm on the dance floor twirling around and you are still muttering to yourself that in no way should it ever be legal to dance on thin glass above man-eating crocodiles. Small smiles are given when you make your favorite food in the whole wide world and watch as I take my first bite. The cheesy flavors, the spice, the sauce, all trickle down my throat as I love very inch of the triangular food as I love you.

Or when we're covered up with a cozy thick blanket because it's Thursday night and we've rented a stupid comedy or catching up on our favorite show. Small smiles often come when you are demonstrating a new karate move, trip over your own two feet, and I give you my hand to help you off the floor.

I place a small dot beside the smile on the right cheek, because everything about that dot is world to me. It's there when I'm crying my eyes out because my latest crush didn't call me. It's there when I almost kill us by buying you a gift card because you mean everything to me and I want to give you the world but don't exactly know how.

I wish I had a red coloring pencil to finish my doodling. It wouldn't be complete without red. Red like the moon that I sometimes find myself staring up at night. Red as the color of the outfits we were as we danced at the Blood Moon Ball. Red to match a hoodie I want to wrap myself up in for all eternity.

While I treasure red, I've been feeling too drawn to green. Green, pure green, that works well with the destructive side of magic. Green the color of lizard monsters, half wands, and mixed with blue a terror of awesomeness that skate boards you away from me.

I like to doodle. I'm not doodling anything specific. Just a random picture of nothing, I guess. If I had to say anything about this doodle, is that when you turn to look at me, I'm going to hide it underneath my notebook and pretend I was drawing a kitten with wings. Or maybe I'll lean over to Janna and have her whisper something totally inappropriate about Ms. Skullnick.

Maybe I'll divert your attention to Ferguson or Alfonzo. They still exist right? Maybe I'll just grab your dimension scissors and toss this picture into parts of the universe unknown. Or maybe, just maybe I'll let you look at it.

Maybe you'll think it's sweet how I tried to capture everything amazing about you into one little piece of paper. That would never work! No one could ever sum up how amazing you are in one drawing on a thin sheet of earth notebook paper. Especially with those flimsy pencils that break everything I go to draw another line.

I go back to the drawing in front of me and start finishing it up. I work on the arms and hands now. It's hard to draw these hands. I mean I should know them like the back of my own. I've held these hands throughout the past six months. Everything I'm frightened these hands have found mine. Everytime I'm ready for a new adventure, I sought out these hands and they were just as eager to grab on and follow me to the ends of all the worlds.

These hands sometimes pulled me away from the darkest parts of myself. Kept me safe. They've held on to me so tight that there is no way I was going to be able to do them justice with this pencil. This earth pencil that could not reflect the epicene that is you.

I finished my doodle, but it's such a far cry from the real thing that I wad it up and incinerate it with my wand. The ashes fall down on my desk as you look at me wide eyed, which never gets old. I shrug my shoulders, wiping the ashes of the lost art work off of my desk.

I don't feel the loss of this particular piece, there are several other drawings and portraits I've done of you hidden in that stupid disorganized closet of mine that I won't miss it. What I do miss though, is as the bell rings, you get up to see one person in particular.

That used to be a girl with long blonde hair that twirled with rainbows and sparkles. Someone who felt excited about the new world around her but only when you were there. You would meet her by the locker and take off to world's unknown, maybe kick the butt of a few monsters.

No, now you leave me, I mean, her in the dust as she struggles to understand what she did wrong. She didn't do anything but be too late as you head straight for Jackie Lynn Thomas. I mean, you could be the most magical, perfect, dangerous princess but whatever are you compared to the girl next door?

Just friends with one half of a broken heart to match my half of a broken wand.


End file.
